Case of the Beautiful Beggar

Chapter 12

Mason put an arm around Daphne Shelby, drew her over to his car, felt her trembling like a leaf beneath her coat.

“Take it easy, Daphne! Take it easy!” the lawyer warned. “We’re running up against something that may be pretty complicated. This man was found in Unit 21. Now, that’s the unit you rented for your uncle?”

She nodded.

The lawyer escorted her into the back seat of his car, had Della Street move in on the other side, said to Daphne, “You went to the Chinese restaurant and got Chinese food to take out?”

“Yes.”

“Who waited on you?”

“Heavens, I don’t know. It was some girl.”

“Not Chinese?”

“No. The cook was Chinese.”

“How did you happen to go to that restaurant?”

She pointed and said, “You can see the sign there — right over there.”

Mason followed the direction of her finger and saw the big illuminated sign in green letters reading CHINESE COOKING.

Mason said, “When Lieutenant Tragg asked you for the sleeping pills you had, you started to open your purse.”

She nodded.

“You have sleeping pills in there?”

“No, it was because he extended his hand and acted the way he did. I forgot for the moment that I had given the sleeping pills to Uncle Horace.”

“Keep on forgetting it for the time being,” Mason said. “Don’t answer any questions about the sleeping pills.

“Now then, Exeter checked into this motel sometime this afternoon. That means that they knew where you had placed Uncle Horace and were just biding their time.”

“Then why didn’t they get officers and take him back to the sanitarium?” she asked. “That’s what both Uncle Horace and I were afraid of.”

“Probably because they were afraid that the Court-appointed doctor would then examine him, and they wanted to work him over a little bit before they let Dr. Alma get in touch with him.”

“Then you think they have Uncle Horace with them?”

“It’s a very distinct possibility,” Mason said.

“What will happen now?” she asked.

Mason said, “They’ll get him all doped up. They’ll terrify him. They will then return him to the sanitarium and notify Dr. Alma.”

“Is there any way of counteracting that?” she asked. “Is there anything we can do? Any way we can find Uncle Horace?”

“I really don’t know,” Mason said, “but we have two alternatives to consider.”

“What are those?”

“One,” Mason said, “is that your Uncle Horace left here with Borden Finchley. But somehow I don’t subscribe to that theory.”

“What’s the other alternative?”

“That he left here under his own power and of his own volition.”

“But why would he leave here?” she asked.

Mason looked her straight in the eyes. “Because he had killed Ralph Exeter.”

“Why, Uncle Horace wouldn’t...” Her voice trailed off into silence.

“Exactly,” Mason said. “You don’t know all the details about how your Uncle Horace has been treated. You don’t know his mental condition. You gave him sleeping pills. Suppose Exeter had the adjoining room then, after you had left the motel, Exeter walked into Horace Shelby’s room and started making demands on him.

“Remember that Exeter wasn’t really Borden Finchley’s friend. He was only interested in getting money, and the money had to come from Horace Shelby.

“So suppose Exeter demanded a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars from Horace Shelby as the price of his cooperation. Suppose Exeter said he hadn’t had anything to eat and started to help himself to the rest of the food in the containers.

“Horace wanted to get rid of the man. He simply dumped the sleeping medicine into the Chinese food. He could have mashed the pills up into a powder while Exeter was talking.

“Perhaps his original intention was to drug Exeter into insensibility and then escape. But after he saw Exeter lying there helpless, he may have decided to make a permanent job of it.”

She shook her head. “Not Uncle Horace. He wouldn’t do anything like that. He wouldn’t kill a fly.”

“Then,” Mason said, “unless we can involve Borden Finchley, there’s only one other suspect.”

“Who?”

“You,” Mason said.

“Me?”

Mason nodded.

She shook her head and said, “This is what Uncle Borden would have done, but not what I would have done and not what Uncle Horace would have done.”

“We’ll also investigate your Uncle Borden,” Mason said.

“When?” she asked.

“Now,” Mason said and, putting his car into gear, drove out of the motel parking lot.

“What am I to do?” Daphne asked.

“You,” Mason said, “are going to go back to your hotel and stay there. If you cut any more capers or have any more unauthorized absences, you’re going to find yourself charged with murder.”

“Ralph Exeter?”

“Yes.”

“But why in the world should I have murdered him?”

“I can think of half a dozen reasons,” Mason said. “One of them is that he is the moving force against your Uncle Horace. He was the one who was putting on the pressure. And if I can think of one good motive, the police can think of a dozen.

“You aren’t out of the woods yet, young lady. You’re suspect right now. There are those who think that underneath that shell of cherubic innocence you’re a shrewd, scheming individual trying to look out for your own future at all costs.”

She said, “I’ve been perfectly frank with you, Mr. Mason.”

“Yes, I know,” the lawyer said. “You’ve told me all the things you wanted me to know. You’ve put all the cards on the table that you wanted me to see. But I’d feel a lot better about you, Daphne, if you hadn’t sneaked out of that hotel, shown such ingenuity in going to that sanitarium and getting a job, then spiriting your uncle out of there.

“I don’t know whether you’re doing it for you or doing it for him, but you certainly aren’t being very considerate of me.

“I stuck my neck out getting some money for you, and I’m entitled to your cooperation.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “And don’t think I don’t appreciate all you’ve done.”

“If you gave that money back to your uncle,” Mason said, “it’s one of the good things to be put on the credit side of the ledger as far as you’re concerned. But don’t kid yourself, before the night is over the police are going to be hot on your trail.

“If they call on you, I want you to insist that you telephone me. I’ll give you a night number where I can be reached. Don’t answer any questions, under any circumstances, until I get there.

“And, in the meantime, don’t question anything that I do.”

“Why should I question anything that you do?” she asked.

“Because,” Mason told her, “if I have the chance, I’m going to use your Uncle Horace as a red herring.”

“What do you mean ‘a red herring’?”

Mason said, “I’m going to let the police get the idea that your Uncle Horace murdered Ralph Exeter, and that he was medically if not legally insane at the time he did it. ”